Feedjit

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

I wish to tell you many things right now, so many stories, too many timelines knocking on my temple, bursting to come out beyond the tip of my pen. First there was the peculiar magic the raging waters of Typhoon Mina that enchanted a certain Kingdom in Sta. Rosa, Laguna last Saturday. I could write about men riding colorful carousels, the crazy extreme rides or how it feels being 130 feet up in the air, sitting in a swinging gondola in freezing cold. Or maybe I’ll tell you about Tagaytay in its early morning fog, the distant rebellious dark clouds threatening every now and then and a certain special steaming hot Bulalo for late breakfast.

But so much for that.

This time, allow me to tell you of a few people who literally stood with me under that mad pouring rain in green and yellow raincoats, those who screamed with me at the top of their lungs as the earthly space shuttle launched itself and those who embraced the cold wet mist on top of Tagaytay that early Sunday morning.

First there was Carlo, the major link in all of us, who made nightly Hangout sessions happen in full real life. He seemed serious, intimidating as if living up to his moniker – the Supladong Office Boy, but turned out to be welcoming, easy to get along with and a guy with such a huge heart. Leah is as charming as she is here in online world, the ideal Ilongga whose smile can brighten up the gloomy sky of Tagaytay’s stormy morning. Yow was probably the most polite person I have ever been with in like a thousand years; his presence reminded me of a world before I enter this mad concrete jungle I’m currently inhabiting that made the monster that I am now.

Xander is a thirteen year old boy trapped in a man’s body. His wit and crazy antics could no doubt easily charm any lady’s heart or as was revealed lately, could even trigger some pretty indecent proposals. Jay was my roommate. His simplicity is what struck me most. I just wish I could sleep well like him as I was really having a sleeping disorder these past few months. Berl, by first impression, looked like one who could star in those evening American sitcoms. And I wasn’t wrong! He is very funny and very kind as well. Bino looked shy at first. I was reading his blog for a long time now but never got the guts to comment or simply make my presence known. All I can say is that he’s a very generous person. Again, he’s very generous that thanks to him, one day, desoleboy.com will be born. Haha. Kidding.

And last, but definitely not the least, is Meliza. Honestly, I know nothing about her at first. I’ve never had the chance to read her blog and never encountered her on Twitter, but turned out, we were both just waiting for a cigarette session partner to wile away the cold weather. And let me tell you this: a single cigarette stick could bond any two strangers, even if they’re from completely different world. Yes, it did for us.

In gratitude, I write this article for them. I could very well drag every word in my vocabulary that would express how thankful I am to these people for welcoming me in their company and still they wouldn’t be enough. Strange that after a year of blogging in wary of fellow bloggers due to privacy paranoia and hard earned lessons, I found myself loosing the very mask of Désolé Boy only to reveal the real person behind for such amazing people.

I wish I could write more, tell you all the fun stuffs, the few struggles brought about by series of unfortunate circumstances and expound more on why I’m 30-minutes late for the 9 in the morning meet-up. I wish I could capture here in words, all the puns shared, the warm smiles and laughs under cold weather and a friendship that is beginning to unfold.

I write this days after as people of the nine already went back to work, some to their respective provinces while others, including me, is sick, and I am thinking if everything that happened was imagined, almost surreal. But as Pico Iyer puts it, none of the truest things in life arrived at by thinking. They come as suddenly as thunder, or in this case, in a sweep of a staggering rain.

There are stories they tell about Laguna and Tagaytay, about distant motels and the hunt for the cheapest of the cheapest flip flops, but today, I decided to tell you the story of the people of the nine in hopes that in the coming days, I would be given chances to write more about such illustrious people that came that one rainy day of August.

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For Bino, Berl, Carlo, Jay, Leah, Meliza, Xander and Yow

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Author's note: The deciding of not putting any censor on the picture is kinda symbolic for me though I would like to thank Supladong Office Boy, Bino and Yow for doing so in their respective blogs. Let's just say that this entry is the only exception.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Man eyed his Prey ravenously. There was no hatred but pure savagery in those eyes, a wildness that even wolves could find formidable. His face was gaunt, devilishly handsome but betrayed by those protruding cherry-red lips.

He stood behind a huge trailer truck as he watched his Prey approach his direction. He could hear his own heart beating. He’s not afraid of the Prey, though. He’s just afraid of the many other insignificant things now racing furiously inside his head.

He peered through a very tiny hole of the truck. He calculates his distance versus the Prey, its approximate speed, even its expressions. “Is it alert?” “Is it aware of the looming danger?” “Is it pre-occupied by many other insignificant things also?” He observed carefully.

In a fraction of a second, as the Prey turned at the side of the truck where the Man was hiding, three consecutive gunshots roared. The Prey froze, every fiber of hits muscle screaming silently in pain. It stared at the evil eyes of its murderer and caught glimpse of Hell in them. Slowly, it fades like a dying candle until it no longer recognized anything. It dropped on the concrete ground, like a useless rug, lifeless.

A few more minutes passed by and a fearful scream was heard followed soon by sirens of police mobile.

The Man is already gone.

___

After a series of murder cases across the metropolis in just a span of three weeks, top officials send out warning to the general public of a possible serial killer currently on the loose, after another human dead body was again found, this time at Batasan Hills, Quezon City.

Police Officer Juan Cristo Madalo identified the latest victim as Carlo Mayuga, 26, resident of 89 Barangay Liang, Malolos City and was found dead beside a parked trailer truck in Mainam Street. The victim suffered from three major gun wounds that resulted to his death: one its forehead, on its left chest and on its groin, same with the other previous eight victims.

According to initial investigation, Mayuga visited a friend near the place where his body was found by a resident who requested to remain anonymous.

In further probing, NCRPO Director General Ismael Gullido said they discovered a significant link among all the recent killings aside from the similarity on the way they are gunned. Apparently, all eight victims, including Mayuga, are bloggers owning a personal website each. However, it is still unconfirmed if all the victims knew each other through their respective web blogs.

While Gullido admitted they still don't have a suspect behind the killings, he said they are now forming a special task force to handle the cases intensively as well as increasing police visibility across the region especially during nighttime. The public, meanwhile, is advised to remain calm and vigilant as tighter investigation is now currently on the move.

-report from the Philippine Daily Reporter, 19 August 2011

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The Man lounges on his handsome armchair reading broadsheet. From that, he learned that his latest prey was in fact from Bulacan and it made him laugh. "Was all these, still, a coincidence?" he thought.

He throws the paper on the carpeted floor and grabs his Armscor 45 caliber pistol. He polishes it carefully under the faint light of his lampshade. In between, the man would smoke his pot for few hits, taking quick glances at his open Macbook sitting on the center table of his living room.

“There’s the blog site of my next prey,” he thought. White sleek, a profile picture of a half-naked guy and is said to be in his early twenties. “A perfect prey for me,” he said. “Just like the others, fuckers who all deserve to die in a meaningless death.”

More deaths shall follow. For the mean time, he shall start work. The first step, find the man behind the anonymous blogger that is his next prey.

On the laptop screen, it reads: Désolé Boy

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Author's note:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

However, remember that in every fictional story, there's always the hint of truth behind it. May you find that truth buried here. Thank you.